


Fight With Yourself and Your Thoughts in the Night

by combeferre_writer01



Series: The Witcher Stories [10]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Again, Blink And You Miss It Slash, Gen, Geralt questions himself, Jaskier can be clever, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23708068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/combeferre_writer01/pseuds/combeferre_writer01
Summary: Comment Request: "My thought was he'd turn into an actual white wolf and is knocked out by the spell. When he wakes up, he's been locked into a small cage along with Jaskier. The bad guys think that Geralt will end up killing Jaskier, but instead Wolf!Geralt treats him like a pack member, or basically like he always does. Eventually, they escape and either wears off or they go to Yennefer to have her remove it."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Witcher Stories [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599160
Comments: 7
Kudos: 252





	Fight With Yourself and Your Thoughts in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WVrambler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WVrambler/gifts).



> The title comes from the song "You" by Keaton Henson. Thank you for the request! Anyone else can leave a request in the comments if they'd like to.

When Jaskier came to, the first thing he noticed was that something soft and warm was pressed against his side. The second thing he noticed was that wherever he was was much too small for him and the soft creature beside him. 

The creature whimpered and Jaskier jumped, hitting his head off of what could only be a cage. He pressed slowly raised his hand to see how high this cage was. He wouldn’t be able to sit up from his crouched position on his knees and elbows. Accepting he was trapped in his cage with the creature, he finally looked over and his eyes landed on a snow-white wolf. 

The bard’s heart went cold for a few moments. The wolf began to sniff him and started nudging at Jaskier’s arms like it was trying to get a look at his sides. 

Scrutinizing the wolf, Jaskier was hit with a wave of realization. “Geralt?” Jaskier asked, holding his hand out to the wolf. The wolf placed his paw in Jaskier’s hand. “Any idea where we are?” The wolf whimpered.  A large iron door opened and a man with a greatsword strapped to his back walked in with a vial in his hand. “Good to see you’re awake, bard,” the man said. He held the vial up. “Do you know what this is?” 

“No.” 

“Don’t test me, boy.” The bandit’s voice was low and gruff. 

“I’ve seen Geralt take them but I have no idea what they are or what they do. Honest.” Jaskier shrugged. 

“One of my men took a sip and died on the spot. I take you’re going to want this.” The man walked closer to the cage and put the vial close enough to the cage that Jaskier could reach through the cage for it. 

“Why would I want this if it killed someone?” Jaskier raised a brow. 

“The wolf’s going to get hungry before long. You can’t expect the slimy cur not to turn to you for food when that happens. Witchers are more beastly than the fucking wolves that hunt in the highlands. You can either let the heartless fuck-”

“You nicked us from the highlands, didn’t you?” Jaskier cocked his head. “Shouldn’t you be in a cage too, then?” 

“Watch your mouth you little shit!” The bandit bellowed. 

“What’re you going to do about it? Honestly? You don’t have the guts to kill me yourself so you’re going to make someone you bewitched do it for you? You’re more cowardly than me,” Jaskier laughed. 

The man withdrew the keys from his belt and walked to the cage with a scowl. He unlocked it and the second the door was opened, Jaskier lunged and caught the man around the waist, holding him to the ground. The wolf wasted no time in slashing the man’s throat with his laws. 

“Geralt.” Jaskier tried for the wolf’s attention. “Geralt.” He patted the wolf’s head. “Would drinking your potion undo the spell? I don’t know what-” The bard stopped talking when the wolf whimpered and barked. “Alright. Let’s give it a go, hm?” 

Jaskier picked up the bottle and though it took them a couple of tries, Geralt did swallow the potion. Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light and Geralt was kneeling before Jaskier with black eyes and blackened veins around his eyes. 

“It worked,” Jaskeir grinned. 

Geralt hummed and stood. Jaskier, whose legs had been bent for so long, had a harder time standing. The Witcher figured it was just as well. He’d have to slaughter their way out, his potion was ramping him up. He heaved a deep breath and turned to Jaskier. 

“I don’t want you seeing what I’m about to do.” 

“What are you-”

In one fluid motion, Geralt steadied Jaskier against his chest and cast Somne. The bard’s head lulled back on his shoulder as the man promptly fell asleep. He eased Jaskier down so he was laying on the floor. 

The Witcher turned to the door and blasted it down with Aard. The first man to raise alarm was easily killed by his own sword once Geralt got it out of his hands. Some of the men ran while others were foolish enough to attack him. 

Geralt never went more than a couple of feet away from the iron door. He needed to keep Jaskier safe. The men that chose to attack were killed in front of the door while a few took a bit of coercion.

Once Jaskier’s heartbeat was the only one Geralt could hear, he went back to the room with the cage and scooped Jaskier into his arms to carry him out of the ramshackle cave.

* * *

Jaskier’s head was pillowed by Geralt’s travelling cloak. He could tell that by the scent: dead leaves, pine needles, woodsmoke, and a slight tint of something he probably didn’t want to know. His head felt weirdly full yet light. Like someone packed his head full of clouds. 

Geralt was drying his hair, the river water flowing a little redder as it passed him. Roach, on the other hand, was grazing on grass. 

Jaskier sat up and he was now at an angle to see the water flowing past Geralt. The last words Geralt said to him floated through his mind.  _ I don’t want you seeing what I’m about to do _ . 

What exactly had he done? They were outside so Geralt had clearly gotten them out. But how? Was the Witcher himself-

Jaskier yelped when Roach nudged his head. 

“Head hurt?” Geralt didn’t look up from drying his hair. The usually silver strands were closer to steel when wet, but clean of blood. 

“...No.” Jaskier rubbed his eyes. His head didn’t hurt but that didn’t mean it felt normal, either. “What, uh...what happened, Geralt?” 

“We got out.”

“I see  _ that _ . But  _ how _ did we get out?” Jaskier stood, bracing himself against Roach’s side when he stumbled. The bard rubbed Roach’s side for a few seconds in thanks. 

“I knocked the door out, gathered our things, and carried you out. Whatever they knocked you out with had a worse effect than we thought.” 

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at Geralt’s back. The Witcher was always skimpy with the details, but the bard could always tell when Geralt was tiptoeing around a specific detail. 

Accepting he wouldn’t know the whole truth until Geralt was ready to tell him, Jaskier joined Geralt by the banks of the river, sitting beside the Witcher, humming absentmindedly. 

“I’m not scared of you. You can’t scare me. I thought you would have learned that by now.” Jaskier ran his hands through his hair. “You saved my life...again. Which is why you can’t scare me.” 

“You saw my eyes, Jaskier.”

“I did. But I also see them no. The guilty fear. You’re a good person, Geralt. You don’t fight unless there’s no other option. There was a literal cage they locked us in. I might not know how to help you fight, but I know- I think- how to lessen your guilt. To lessen your guilt, my friend, you need reassurances to drown out whatever nastiness your silly brain is spoon-feeding you.” 

Geralt grunted and finally sat up fully, dropping the towel in his lap. “Why are you doing this?”

“Everyone’s always putting you down and you need someone in your corner. Maybe I should write another ballad about you, hm? What do you say to that, Geralt? About the...the sobbing mother who thought her son was dead.” Jaskier snapped his fingers. “Yes! And how we watched their joyous reunion!” 

Geralt was only sort of listening at this point. Now that this idea was in Jaskier’s head, the bard was going to write it whether the Witcher wanted it or not. Which meant he’d be hearing all about it for the next couple of weeks. 

“Thank you.” Geralt cut Jaskier off mid-sentence. 

“Hm? For what?” Jaskier blinked. 

“Not...fuck.”

Jaskier got the message. “Nothing’s changed; there’s nothing to react to. You’ll always be you. The scary-looking man who smiled when a young girl gave him a flower to thank him for saving her brother.

“Yes, you being a Witcher does have some dark and sadder days- such as today. But even my being a bard has its darker and sadder days- like the day I met Valdo Marx.” Now if you’ve ever seen a monster in human skin, it’s that flaming compost heap.” 

Geralt grunted out a laugh and Jaskier beamed. 

“Could you… Do you remember anything from while you were under the spell?” The bard’s hand was fidgeting. 

“No. We were swarmed by bandits, one of them was a mage, a bright light, then I’m kneeling next to you with blood on my hand.” 

Jaskier nodded slowly. “Sometime after I woke up, a man came in and gave me one of your potions saying I was going to want it before long because one of his men died after taking a single sip. I got the keys from the man and got us out of the cage, you drank the potion, and then I woke up here.” 

“I put you to sleep.” Geralt wouldn’t meet Jaskier’s eyes. 

“You got us out alive,” Jaskier pointed out. “Besides, I should be thanking you. That was the most soundly I’ve slept in days.” 

Geralt shook his head but said nothing else. 

“Come on.” Jaskier took Geralt by the hand and tugged him up to his feet. “If you don’t comb your hair you’re not going to be able to.”

* * *

Before midnight, Jaskier had curled up in his bedroll a safe distance from the fire but close enough that the flames kept him warm. 

Geralt lay on Jaskier’s other side so if anything were to try to get at Jaskier it would have to go through him first. As he lay there, the bard’s words drifted in and out of his mind. The words of his peacefully sleeping bard. 

Jaskier never lied to him. He’d dance around an answer if he was embarrassed, but he never lied. Eventually, the bard would go on and tell Geralt the whole answer because he felt bad about not really answering. 

When it came to his love life, Jaskier possessed questionable morals- just like any other bard he’d ever crossed paths with. Unlike most freelancers, Jaskier willingly helped anyone and everyone he could without a thought of payment with a smile. 

If someone so kind, selfless, and trusting as Jaskier would place his life in Geralt’s hands, maybe he wasn’t as evil as he thought. He could try trusting himself as Jaskier did. Or at least a little more. 

The Witcher rolled over, facing Jaskier, and focussed on that bard’s heartbeat. The sound lulled him to sleep by ensuring Jaskier was alive and well.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read the books, nor played the games. I looked up the spells that I mentioned Geralt having used.


End file.
